Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: <html><head></head>In a dystopian society where free thought and speech are both outlawed, and firemen set fires instead of putting them out, Kurt is a rebel, trying to rescue books from incineration, with the help of his friend, Sebastian, who happens to be a fireman. (Fahrenheit 451 AU) Kurt H. Sebastian S.</html>


**A/N:** _Written for the Kurtbastian Hiatus Project prompt 'dystopian society AU', this pays homage to one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors Fahrenheit 451. Warning for mention of oral sex, injuries involved with a blow to the head and burning, description of which get moderate towards the end, but not too tremendously graphic. I'll italicize the potentially bad stuff so you can skip it._

"You shouldn't be doing this," Kurt says, gathering the books that are the least damaged out of the ruins of the destroyed Dalton library. He picks through what remains of the tattered volumes, frowning at the ones that simply fall apart and turn to ash at his touch.

"Look who's talking, tiger," Sebastian says, tossing aside a few charred tomes and rescuing a copy of Rudyard Kipling's _Just So Stories_. "I'm a fireman. At least I have an excuse for being out here. You…you're likely to be killed on sight."

Kurt scoffs.

"What?" Sebastian asks, handing over the book to Kurt, whose arms are just about full.

"Fireman." Kurt mutters the word like a curse beneath his breath. "You know, when Finn was little, he wanted to be a fireman. That was back when firemen put out fires. Now, you're the ones who set them."

Sebastian feels the splinters of old arguments prickle beneath his skin. He appreciates what Kurt is going through, everything he's lost, but Sebastian isn't the enemy. Unlike Kurt, who chose the life of a rebel, Sebastian didn't get a choice.

He understands, but he refuses to be Kurt's punching bag. He grabs Kurt's shoulders, almost shaking the books loose from his grip.

"Do you think I like this?" Sebastian snarls in a low voice. "Do you think I want to be one of _them_?"

"No," Kurt says, taking Sebastian's anger coolly. "I don't. But you don't seem to have balls big enough to walk away from them either."

Sebastian holds onto Kurt a little longer, squeezes his arm a little harder before pushing him away.

"That's easy for you to say," Sebastian mutters. "You have no obligations. Most of your family is dead."

"I have my friends," Kurt says, mostly ignoring Sebastian's vitriolic comment. "They're my family now."

Sifting through the splintered, blackened wood of the library shelves masks the sounds of footsteps coming their way.

"Did you see the way it collapsed?" a voice echoes through the deserted halls.

"Yeah," a second voice cackles. "Once the flames hit the support structure, the whole thing crumbled like a house of cards."

Sebastian's head snaps up from the wreckage beneath his feet to look at Kurt, and Kurt looks back, frozen with the books cradled against his chest.

"Go!" Sebastian hisses, pointing to the caved-in doorway they had come in through. "Go home! Quickly!"

"What about you?" Kurt calls back in a hoarse whisper.

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

"Go!" he repeats, motioning with his hands.

Kurt bounds forward a few steps, but his foot hits a loose patch of ash and he slides forward. His feet fly out from under him and he falls into the pile, landing on his tailbone, sending dust and debris spilling like an avalanche toward the exit, blocking his escape.

"Shit, Kurt!" Sebastian groans, racing toward him, the heavy fuel tank of his regulation issue M2 flamethrower bouncing against his back. "Can't you do anything right?"

"Well, _you're_ my best friend," Kurt grumbles, scrambling to get to his feet, "so apparently not."

"Hey, Sebastian," the first voice calls, footsteps becoming louder as the two boys head for the library. "What the hell are you still doing here?"

Sebastian turns quickly, trying to shield Kurt's prone form with his body.

"I could ask you the same thing, Michael," Sebastian says to his compatriot. Michael used to be a Dalton student, like Sebastian. Carl, however, hails from another Westerville private school that Sebastian's never heard of before.

"I'm just showing Carl here around the old alma mater," Michael preens, clapping the other boy on the shoulder. "This was his first major burn. I wanted him to take a moment to appreciate it."

"Good for you," Sebastian sneers. "We'll be sure to get you a medal."

"You'll have to forgive Sebastian," Michael says to Carl, infusing his words with the assumption of superiority, "he's still a little attached to this place."

"Forgive me for valuing education," Sebastian says, staring Michael down.

"Like you need one, Smythe," Carl says, words punctuated with a touch of jealousy. "You have enough money to buy yourself a small country."

"Right…" Sebastian nods in sarcastic agreement, "aren't I lucky? Well, if you don't mind, I'm kind of having a private moment…"

The sound of muffled scuffling can be heard clearly when the conversation drops off, and Michael grins, the curl of his lips becoming more suggesting the wider it grows.

"Ahhh," he says, taking slow steps forward, "so did you bring someone here to gloat over your big masterpiece?"

Sebastian holds his breath. From behind him the scuffling stops and Sebastian knows that Kurt is waiting to hear the details of how his best friend demolished Kurt's beloved Dalton library.

"His masterpiece, huh?" Carl asks.

"Yeah, you should have seen him!" Michael says, taking a step closer to Sebastian as he speaks. "He totally took the charge. Came storming in here first thing." Michael shoots Carl a heated look. "I think he wanted all the guts and glory for himself, but his technique sure leaves something to be desired." Michael bends over and picks up a thin publication - a copy of _Animal Farm_, entirely unscathed except for some charring around the edges of the pages. "Take a look at this one. Why, it's still readable." Michael turns to Carl and gives him a nod. Carl's wolfish grin takes up his entire face as he reaches for the flamethrower he has slung over his shoulder. Michael tosses the book up and Carl pulls out his weapon, firing on the paperback novel as it spins in the air, setting it ablaze. The books drops amid another pile of only partially burned books, setting them all on fire. Michael watches the small bonfire start, then turns venomous dark eyes back to Sebastian. "You see, even newbie here knows how to get the job done. How come you have so much trouble?"

Sebastian isn't about to admit with these two goons present that he had done it on purpose, that he had led the charge into the library to make sure that the books didn't get burned too badly. That way he could bring Kurt back here to collect them afterwards. He had it all planned out from the day the firemen were told that the Dalton library – _Kurt's_ library – would be the next place on the government's hit list. Sebastian would put forth the appearance of doing his job, and the group of boys who had already begun to side-eye him with suspicion would be none the wiser.

And then Kurt might think he was a hero.

But that plan is falling apart at the seams as these two boys try to pick him apart in front of the only person in his life that truly matters to him – the boy shivering at Sebastian's feet with an armful of books, most likely thinking that Sebastian is the worst kind of liar and traitor.

None of that matters when out of nowhere, after his attempts to hold it back for this long, Kurt sneezes, and the two boys with their flamethrowers cocked seem to suddenly remember that someone else is in the room.

"So," Michael says, fondling the weapon in his hands, "aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"

Sebastian holds his ground and shakes his head, mentally screaming at Kurt to keep still.

"I'd rather not," Sebastian says, pulling his own flamethrower off his shoulder and holding it defensively in front of him.

"And why is that?" Carl asks, tilting his head and taking a step to circle around Sebastian while Michael does the same on the opposite side. "Any friend of one fireman is a friend of us all."

"Yeah," Michael agrees, taking another step, "maybe your little _friend_ would like to join us. You know, fight the good fight."

"I don't think my friend's interested," Sebastian says, watching the two boys circle around him like jackals, vying for whatever Sebastian is protecting.

Kurt can't stand it anymore. He can't stand waiting to be sniffed out by these two. He can't stand hiding behind the boy he thought he knew so well. Why? Why would Sebastian do such a thing, especially when he knows how much those books mean to people – to him? Part of Kurt's brain – the part not currently trying to plan his escape - tells him that he should have more faith. Sebastian had to have a reason for torching the Dalton library - Kurt's favorite place in the whole school. Kurt knows why Sebastian became a fireman. He did it because his father forced him into it. All of the children of the government are expected to become fireman, and Sebastian's father is a state's attorney. He threatened to turn Sebastian over himself if he didn't. Sebastian was right - he didn't have a choice.

Sebastian _did_ have a choice putting his life on the line to help Kurt, and Kurt recognizes that huge sacrifice, but sacrifices are being made all over. He can't discredit the sacrifices being made by all those rebels hiding underground, sticking to their beliefs, not giving in, relying on him.

_Ugh_! Kurt can't afford to be this confused. Not right now.

"You know, we're a brotherhood," Michael says. "Brothers have each other's backs."

"And brothers don't keep secrets," Carl adds.

"You're no brothers of mine," Sebastian growls, releasing the safety on his flamethrower.

"Is that a threat?" Michael asks with a predator's grin on his face – open mouth and white teeth.

"It sounded like a threat to me," Carl says, affecting the same hungry grin.

"We don't like being threatened," Michael says, stopping and aiming his flamethrower at Sebastian. To his left, Carl does the same.

The air becomes strained with the threats being made all around as the stand-off begins. On the floor, hidden from view, Kurt carefully puts his coveted pile of books down. He pulls off his t-shirt and unzips his jeans.

"I think we should just torch them both," Carl says, releasing the safety on his flamethrower, a small lick of blue flame dancing at the barrel of his weapon.

"No!" Kurt screams, jumping to his feet, holding his arms up in a gesture of surrender. "Don't! It's not his fault! I wanted to come here."

Sebastian doesn't see Kurt step out behind him, he can only see the expressions of the two boys staring at them, eyes blank and brows furrowed in confusion. Kurt comes around Sebastian and Sebastian lowers his weapon in surprise. He'd never seen Kurt without a shirt on before. In school, after gym class, Kurt had been so careful changing so that no one would notice him. Sebastian had spent many an evening lying awake wondering what Kurt's body looked like beneath his clothes, imagining undressing Kurt slowly in the quiet of his dorm room.

Reality, Sebastian decides, is remarkably better than anything he came up with. But now with Kurt's pants falling down around his hips, Sebastian forgets how to breathe.

"What…what the fuck is this!?" Carl asks, nearly livid.

"That's the big secret?" Michael asks with a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Sebastian Smythe is gay?"

"Ye-yeah," Sebastian stammers, struggling to pull his eyes away from half-naked Kurt, "that's…that's it. That's the secret."

"Well, fuck!" Carl spits. "That's barely worth wasting any juice over." Carl powers down his weapon and slings it back over his shoulder.

"Now, hold up, Carl," Michael says, seemingly mesmerized by the pale, shirtless boy. "What were you guys doing in here?"

Sebastian wraps an arm protectively around Kurt, his hand splaying out over Kurt's bare stomach, feeling his skin jump beneath his touch.

"I would think that would be obvious," Sebastian says, pulling Kurt as close against his body as he can.

Michael's eyes rove once over Kurt's body in a shameless, filthy way before returning to his face.

"What is the reward for burning down a library though?" Michael asks, his stare driving deep into Kurt's blue eyes. "A blowjob?"

Kurt stares back, unwilling to be intimidated by this mindless ox who ransacks houses, bullies people, and burns the only things left in the world that have any meaning.

"Yes," he says, relaxing against Sebastian's body, letting his hands trail around his friend's hips and down his legs as far as he can reach. "Definitely."

Sebastian, caught in the middle of this ruse, swallows lightly, trying not to focus all of his attention on the hand exploring his body.

Michael leans in closely. Kurt can smell the stench of alcohol on the boy's breath and gasoline all over his clothes. It's the smell of ignorance and reckless destruction.

"I think that's something I'd like to watch," he whispers, the alcohol smell growing stronger beneath Kurt's nose. Kurt's stomach turns to jelly but he doesn't let it show. He's not going to let this boy have the satisfaction of knowing that anything he says affects him.

"Well, I don't," Carl balks loudly. "I mean, come on, Michael. Gross. Let's get out of here."

Michael doesn't move. His brown eyes try to see through Kurt, but Kurt doesn't let him. His hand roams absently over Sebastian's body as he waits, as if he has all day to stand here and nothing better to do.

"Right," Michael says, backing away but not appearing all too fooled by Kurt's ploy. "Come on, Carl. Let's leave them to it."

Michael grabs the arm of Carl's thick, fireproof overcoat and tugs him along, throwing a look over his shoulder every five steps to see that Kurt and Sebastian stay as they leave them, with the partially dressed boy still groping at his fireman.

When the two boys retreat through the double doors and disappear from sight, Kurt almost collapses to the floor.

"Fuck," he sighs, raising a hand to his face and unwittingly wiping ash onto his skin, "that was close." He crawls back to his abandoned shirt, leaving Sebastian stunned where he stands, all thought of his near death experience dissolving with the thought Kurt's hand running over his body.

Sebastian turns slowly, catching Kurt right as he pulls his shirt over his head and starts to zip up his fly.

"Kurt," he says, watching Kurt collect up the books off the floor, "I…what Michael said…about the library, I didn't…"

"No," Kurt says, cutting him off, "you don't have to explain. I think I understand."

Sebastian sighs, relieved that his friend saw through them and their evil. Kurt knows that Sebastian is different, always has been.

"You do?" he asks, helping Kurt fit the last few books into his arms.

"Yeah," Kurt says, "I mean, you need to save face. You have to make them think you believe in all this book burning shit, right?"

Sebastian deflates at Kurt's words.

No, he doesn't understand after all.

Sebastian shakes his head, opening his mouth to explain, but a sharp pain to the back of the skull sends him straight to the floor.

"Sebastian!" Kurt screams down at his friend, but a pair of thick boots steps over Sebastian's body, pushing Kurt backward.

"I knew there was something fishy about you, Smythe," Michael says, spitting into the fallen boy's face. "I knew, I just didn't have any proof. Now I'm going to turn you in…" Michael looks up at Kurt, "and I'm going to finish the job you didn't."

"No," Kurt says, holding the books to his chest and backing away. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes," Carl says, coming up behind his friend. "We do."

"Kurt," Sebastian groans, trying to rise up from the floor, his head spinning, lights colliding behind his eyelids, "just put the books down and run!"

"No," Kurt says, shaking his head, keeping his eyes on the boys with the flamethrowers pointed at him.

"They're going to burn the books, Kurt, whether you're holding them or not," Sebastian implores. He looks into Kurt's soot stained face, pleading with bleary eyes, saying all of the things with one look that he doesn't dare stay out loud.

Whether Kurt understands his message or not, he's made his decision. He holds the books tighter to his chest and shakes his head.

"He warned you," Michael says with a shrug, stepping forward with his flamethrower at the ready.

"Kurt!" Sebastian yells, managing to kneel, attempting to crawl forward over the uneven mass of decimated books and scorched wood. "Don't be stupid! They're not worth your life!"

"You're right," Kurt says, and in his resolve, he sounds afraid. "They're worth more. There aren't that many left, Sebastian. I can't let them go."

"Let it alone, Smythe," Michael says, shoving Sebastian to the ground with a kick of his boot. "He's made his choice."

"Yeah," Carl says, walking up to meet him, "it's not like we weren't just going to punish him anyway."

"No!" Sebastian screams. "You can't…"

"Yeah," Michael says with a grotesque smile on his face, looking from Sebastian to Kurt, "we can."

Sebastian lurches forward, but the boys with their weapons are too far out of his reach.

"No!"

Kurt turns to run, but he's not quick enough. Little in the world can outrun the fire of an M2 flamethrower. The wave of orange flame that engulfs Kurt is hotter than anything he's ever felt in his life. More than a thousand sunburns, more than the scalding hot water that spits out of his shower unexpectedly in the rat infested basement he's been hiding in for months, ever since _they_ took over – the regime that doesn't believe in independent thought or free speech, the new government that turned its people into refugees. The fire consumes Kurt's body and his entire world becomes pain.

The last sound he hears above the crackling of the fire is Sebastian wailing his name before his mind shuts off to avoid the agony of his body burning, and everything goes black.

* * *

><p>"Kiddo…" is the next sound Kurt hears. He doesn't know if he hears it days later, weeks later, or months later, but it's the most welcome sound in the world to him.<p>

"Dad," he tries to say. He thinks his mouth moves, he thinks he makes the sound, but it turns out none of it is true. He can't say a word. _His lips are fused together,_ and whatever other damage has been done to his body is hiding beneath a powerful concoction of morphine and valium, both fighting to drag him back to sleep.

He wants to move his eyes, but he can't even open his eyelids. He doesn't try, afraid that maybe they're fused shut as well.

If they are, he doesn't want to know.

How his dad even knows he's awake is a mystery if he can't talk and he can't see.

"Can he hear us?" his dad whispers.

"I believe he can," a woman's voice responds. Kurt knows that voice. It's Carole – Finn's mom. She used to be a nurse - that much Kurt remembers - even though he really doesn't know too much about her. She escaped down to the sewer with Finn. Puck, Mercedes, Rachel, and a few other kids from school found their way down to the hideout, too. No one else from Glee Club made it when McKinley was set on fire. "Look at how he's trying to move his mouth, the way his eyelids flutter. That's not just a nerve response. He's waking up."

Kurt's body trembles as her words seem to ignite his memory, and a sudden burst of pain along with them.

"Calm down, kiddo," his father whispers. Kurt hears whimpering. It takes him a moment to realize it's his own voice. His throat burns, the smell of gasoline rising up in his sinuses where it had settled, but he can't swallow. He needs to speak. He needs to know what happened.

Where is Sebastian? Is he alive? Is he safe? Did Michael and Carl set him on fire, too?

Kurt feels a wash of calm flow through his veins, cooling down his body from the inside, settling his nerves, keeping him calm.

"Yes," Carole coos, "that's better, isn't it, sweetie?" Kurt's whimpers stop in his throat without him doing anything. He relaxes, melting into the bed beneath him, and sleep begins to win its battle.

"We're going to need to find him more morphine," Carole says softly with a troubled sigh. "We're starting to run out."

"Well, we've never had anyone burned as badly as him in the infirmary before," Rachel points out with a sniffle. Kurt would smile if he could at the sound of her voice. He wonders how long she's been sitting beside him, holding vigil.

"We'll go get him some," Finn offers. "No problem."

Finn. Kurt's superhero. Kurt tries to be strong, tries to be vigilant, but if it weren't for Finn, Kurt isn't sure how long that façade would have lasted. But Finn is there and somehow that makes Kurt feel like everything is going to be alright. He slips back to sleep without a single question answered, unable to stay awake in his weakened state, not that he wants to try.

"There," Carole says, watching the twitching in Kurt's muscles stop. "I think he's back asleep. That's best for him for now."

Burt nods, keeping an eye on his son, almost unable to look at what was once his beautiful face._ It's gone, every distinguishing feature morphed into a single blackened lump of flesh._ He'll never talk again, never sing - probably never see. He'll be locked in his body for the rest of his life…if his injuries don't kill him first.

"What do we do with the fireman?" Finn asks. "I mean, he saved Kurt's life."

"If you can believe him," Rachel snaps.

"Why would he lie?" Finn asks. "Why would he risk his life bringing Kurt here?" Finn looks down into the watery brown eyes of his fiancée and sighs. "I believe him."

"Yeah," Puck says, "but you know the rules."

"You're right," Kurt's father answers back. "I _do_ know the rules. But if he's telling the truth then that fireman killed two other firemen to save my boy. He's a hero with nowhere to go. So now he's a fugitive like us. He stays here."


End file.
